


A Hodgepodge of Presents

by Fandoms_Everywhere_United



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, But no consumption of alcohol..., Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff, Holiday Traditions, M/M, Mistletoe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-24 15:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Everywhere_United/pseuds/Fandoms_Everywhere_United
Summary: This is a collection of short prompts for my friend :))))  It is all discontinuous, and each chapter features a separate prompt and a separate ship.  I hope you enjoy!





	1. Holiday Traditions: Hunk/Allura

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpicyRedPaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyRedPaladin/gifts).



> HAPPY CHRISTMAS, BLUE!!! I HAVE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS!!!! JUST IGNORE THE WARNINGS RIGHT NOW, EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!!

“Christmas?” Allura asked. Her head was cocked to the side, her white hair falling in a cascade that perfectly framed her face. Her eyes brightened as she looked at the yellow paladin.

“Yeah." He said back. His voice was deep and rich. It had lost the playful lilt that it had before in favor of a deeper yearning as he stared at the stars he had just called Christmas lights. “It’s an Earth holiday where friends and family gather together and give gifts to one another." He turned his head to wonder curiously at the princess beside him. “Did you not have something like it on Altea?”

They were sitting beside each other on the bridge as they looked at the sea of stars that reached out for lightyears in front of them. Allura’s hands rested gracefully in her lap while Hunk’s were behind him on the ground. Their feet dangled into the open space and swung back and forth. Everything was so… still.

“Well,” Allura sighed. She cast her blue eyes down to her hands as they twisted together; the pressure left pale imprints where they gripped each other. “We did have… something similar to that. Coran could tell you all about the history of the week of Trin’xia, where we all gather together with the entire community on the first day, and you rejoice in the presence of everyone you know and everyone you don’t.

“On the second day, you gather with your school or workplace. There is no learning or working, of course, but you exchange pleasantries with the people that you may or may not interact with on a daily basis. Often, there are parties held at these places, and this is usually where many Altean’s begin to become inebriated." She smiled softly as if she remembered a particular memory.

“The third day begins to become more intimate as you gather with your friends. I suppose that you might be able to exchange gifts on this day as you would describe your Christmas. This was always one of my favorite days to participate in because there were so many people around that you know and love.

“The fourth day, you narrow your group even further to just your family. This includes Aunts, Uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents. We definitely exchange gifts here. There are huge gatherings throughout Altea as enormous families all come together.

“The fifth day is technically not the last day, but many do not celebrate the sixth. On the fifth day, it is narrowed down to immediate family — only your siblings and parents. I suppose we exchange gifts here, but my family never did such. We were always content with one another’s presence.

“As I said, the sixth day is not celebrated by all, because you would traditionally isolate yourself from everyone else. It is you and whatever deity you believe in.”

Hunk nodded as she brought her history lesson to an end. “That seems…” He trailed off. “I’m not sure what to call it. I like that it becomes slowly more intimate though. We only have one day to celebrate, and generally, that day is only spent with very close friends and family." He chuckled to himself. “That’s only Christmas. We have different celebrations depending on the religion that you adhere to. If you’re Jewish, you have Hanukkah, which is eight days long. I don’t know a lot of the history around it, but I think it involves a lantern burning for really long.”

“You have different celebrations for different beliefs?” Allura asked curiously. “But what if you belong to multiple religions?”

Hunk blinked blankly back at her. “What do you mean by belonging to multiple religions? You can believe in different things at the same time?”

The princess laughed. The sound was like the tingling of bells in the wind in the mountains; light, pure, and beautiful. “Of course! How do we know that we came here? Was it one person? Was it several people? How would we be able to tell?”

“That’s nothing like back at Earth. We have half a million different sects of Christianity, and they all are slightly different.”

Allura smiled back at him. “Well, I think that the idea of Christmas is sweet. I would love to get everyone a small gift. It would be a nice way to encourage team bonding among Voltron and see if they could guess what one another would enjoy." Her blue eyes lit up even further. “Hunk!" Her hands gripped his larger ones tightly, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain in the slightest. “What if we organized a Christmas here on the Castleship?”

His dry hands scratched lightly against her softer ones. “We could come up with some way to incorporate your celebration, uhhh… Trinity…?”

“Trin’xia." Allura clarified. “Every day would have to be like the fifth day though. We are as close as a family." She began to rise to her feet, but she found herself stumbling slightly on the hem of her dress, tumbling into him. It was the least princessly thing that Hunk had ever seen her do. Her body was pressed flush against his, and they felt the heat of each other's bodies through their clothes.

She drew back slightly. A blush had spread itself across the top of her cheekbones. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. A soft smell wafted its way to his nose; she had told him that it was the scent of her perfume which was made from an extract of the Altean Juniberry. She only used it occasionally, but Hunk always loved it when she did because she always seemed to be happier, a little brighter.

He smiled back at her and pressed their foreheads together. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, princess." He whispered as he simultaneously tilted her chin in his hands and pressed their lips together. “Every idea of yours sounds wonderful." He dove in for another kiss. Their lips melded together perfectly, like every other time they’d done this.

Both of their mouths opened and their tongues danced together. Warm bodies pressed closer together as Hunk wrapped one hand around Allura’s slim waist and tangled the other in her soft hair. The strands flowed between his fingers as smooth as silk, and they never tangled together.

Breathless, they pulled away from each other. Their lips were slightly red and pulled tight against their wide grins.

“Maybe I’ll teach you about a few of our other traditions." Allura breathed. “Especially for the celebration of fertility.”

Hunk’s face heated substantially; the red blush even spread to his ears. He choked on air and laughed awkwardly. “That- That would be nice, princess.”

She pressed their lips together again. “And you can teach me more of your traditions.”

“I can do that." He said, picturing a bough of mistletoe above their heads. “I can definitely do that.”


	2. Mistletoe Kisses: Keith's Dad/Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... might possibly be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. (Please ignore the fact that I ~~stole~~ used the name you came up with for Keith's dad.) This was also incredibly fun to write, ludicrously fun. It's not fair.
> 
> Also, please note: Rather than the canonical three years that the paladins spent in stasis or whatever, they only spent six months.

“Where does the garland go again?”

Lance rolled his eyes. This was the third time that Keith’s father, Kenny, had asked about the garland. “If it’s the long stuff, it’s going to go on the banister upstairs. The other stuff is shorter, and it looks lighter. That’s going on the front porch.”

Mr. Kogane huffed as he had somehow managed to tangle himself in the garland. “I can’t tell which one is longer." He looked up at Lance with one of the most adorable faces Lance had ever seen the other man make. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lower lip was sticking out in a slight pout. Not even the scar above his eye could compensate for the extreme levels of _cute_ that he was giving off.

Lance smiled back and used the tail ends of the garland to pull Kenny to him. “You know, if you laid them out next to each other, you could tell." He pressed their foreheads together. “But that would require you to be unwound.”

“Would you be willin’ to help me with that darlin’?” Kenny smiled and pressed his mouth closer to Lance’s cheek. “I think I’m a lil’ tied up at the moment and could use the extra hands.”

Warmth crawled it’s way up Lance’s face and made a new home on his cheeks. Kogane could feel the heat radiating off of the other’s blush. “You’re not allowed to say things like that." Lance hid his face in Kenny’s neck. “I’m the one who’s supposed to say bad pick-up lines, and you’re supposed to go weak in the knees.”

“What’s saying I’m _not_ weak in the knees for you?” Lance felt his own legs almost give out from under him at the words. His face heated up even more.

“No." He said, straightening. “No, we need to finish decorating for the Christmas party. Maybe after we have the party, we can give each other jello legs. No one says we need to walk tomorrow.”

Kenny’s smile widened until it was reaching from ear to ear. “Sounds like a plan." He pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s temple before laughing slightly. “I could still use the help of getting untied though.”

\---

The party went beautifully.

Kenny never mixed up the two garlands again. Hunk brought amazing cookies that he had made at home, and Pidge brought the _not store bought_ frosting for decorating. Keith won the ugly sweater contest with a sweater that had his own face crocheted on to it. Allura and Coran both brought the closest thing they could find to Altean desserts, one of which was incredibly spicy and a deep blue color, but no one was willing to question it. Shiro had shown up late, but he brought some liquor with him, so no one was complaining.

Keith had reached for a bottle and flashed a knowing smile at his father when Kenny had tried to take it away from him. “No can do, dad." He held the bottle above his head. “I’m 21 now.”

His father stopped for a second and counted out the years on his fingers, causing everyone to laugh. “No, you ain’t." He finally said as he pulled it from Keith’s grasp. “Last I checked, and that was four seconds ago, you’re still 19.”

“I spent two years in a quantum space thing that mom tried to explain to me. Basically, I spent two years when other people spent two months." He said triumphantly. He reached for the bottle again, but his fingers only met air.

“And then you spent six months who-knows-where which you didn’t feel the effects of. At best you’re twenty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, dad.”

“How old does it say you are on your driver’s license?”

Keith was quiet for a moment as he stared good-natured daggers at his father. “19.”

“And how old do you have to be in order to drink in the United States?”

Keith pouted. “21.”

Lance leaned on Kenny’s shoulder. “You know, _technically_ there’s no drinking age in Cuba. You just need to be 18 in order to _buy_ alcohol." He winked at Keith.

Kenny turned his head back to Lance. “What good does a Cuban drinking age have to do with this? We are in the middle of America, where you need to be 21. Shiro can have a drink if he wants one, because _he’s 21_. None of the rest of you can." He looked pointedly at his son, who was still pouting and trying to steal a bottle from Shiro.

Keith put the bottle back.

Lance raised his hand, his fingers splayed. “I’m Cuban, therefore your American rules don’t apply to me." He grabbed the neck of the bottle from Kenny’s hand. The water clinging to it made it easy to grab. “If you want me to conform,” he whispered into the other’s ear. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

They were both off together. Lance gripped the bottle for dear life; he almost cut a corner too close and sent himself sprawling. Kenny was close behind him, reaching for something- anything to stop Lance’s rampage through the nicely decorated house that they had spent hours perfecting.

When the thief found himself taking a wrong turn, he tried his best to slip past the other, only to be caught with an arm across his chest. “Gotcha." Kenny breathed heavily into his ear. They were both out of breath. They hadn’t even been running for that long, why were they out of breath?

“It seems you did." Lance smiled. His heart pounding in his chest from the run along with their close proximity. “You really, really did." His eyes were drawn to the space right above their heads where he had strategically placed a bough of mistletoe while decorating. “But it seems like I _also_ caught you.”

Lance smiled, his breaths still coming in pants, but he hoped maybe now they were seductive pants as he gestured with his head towards the leaves. Kenny cast his eyes above them as he simultaneously grabbed the bottle from Lance’s numb hands. It was still cold, even after being pressed against Lance’s warmth for so long.

“You planned this, di’n’t ya?” Kenny’s breath seemed to be coming back to him, but Lance was having no such luck. All he could do was smile up at the taller man.

“I plead the fifth." He reached both of his hands up to cup Kenny’s jaw. The stubble tickled his fingers, and Kenny laughed as the freezing cold hand sapped the heat from just below his jaw.

He lowered his head to Lance’s. Their noses pressed side by side, but their eyes were open as they stared into each other. “You can’t say that you don’t follow our rules and then use our rules against me.”

“Just watch me." Lance smiled again. His grin spread impossibly wide across his face. _Nothing in the world could mess up this moment_. He thought as their lips touched, hesitantly at first, but then with a new vigor as strong hands wrapped around his waist and pulled their bodies closer to each other.

Nothing could ever mess this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now :)))
> 
> The next chapter marks the beginning of the **_A N G S T_**
> 
> Tomorrow? Why it's Kolivance.


	3. Visiting Family: Kolivan/Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, here we have a quick dash of angst for this chapter, but the warning _still_ doesn't apply.

To put it simply, Lance was terrified.

He had been into space, had stayed there for months, and had faced off against some of his worst fears along with giant metal enemies. All of that, and he hadn’t blinked. Yeah, it was scary, but he had never been rendered paralyzed from any prospect.

Yet, here he was, absolutely terrified about how his family was going to react when he brought a Galra home for Christmas.

He could already imagine the conversation as his mama just about had a heart attack while she stared up at Kolivan, someone who was part of an alien race that had enslaved almost all of Earth. He could already imagine his dad leveling the shotgun that they kept in the hallway closet at the purple man. He could already imagine his siblings and cousins running in fear from someone he was proud to say he loved.

But when Kolivan asked Lance why his arm was poised right before knocking, he couldn’t voice all of those fears. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the alien that his family might run screaming for the hills at the sight of him. So Lance just smiled and said it was an Earth thing before he knocked heavily on the door once, twice, thrice.

“Uncle Lance, it’s Uncle Lance!" Someone called behind the door. Little hands scrambled against the child proof door knob, and Lance could hear the excitement in Nadia and Sylvio’s voices. “I’m gonna be the first to see him!" They bickered back and forth behind it. As their volume raised, so did Lance’s anxieties.

Kolivan, always able to sense the minute changes in Lance’s mood, sensed this and put one massive hand on the smaller man's shoulder. “I’m sure there’s very little to worry about, Lance. If there are any problems, then I’ll leave, simple as that.”

Blue eyes stared at the ground, afraid to meet Kolivan’s. “I just... I don’t want them to be afraid of you." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Even though I know- I _know_ they trust me and that they trust my judgment on who I date. I’m just worried that they’re going to… not." He finished sadly. He scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the cement.

The lock clicked open in front of the pair, and Lance’s head snapped up. He stepped back further into Kolivan’s half-embrace and plastered a smile across his face.

The door in front of them swung open, and a small woman stood on the threshold. Two young children stood behind her legs and clung to them. Lance smiled down at his niece and nephew before staring his mother in the eye.

“Hola mamá." He said. He could feel his anxieties rising as the woman laid eyes on the Galra behind him. He hoped his smile was deterring any anger that she would have at the sight of the Galra standing with his hand possessively on Lance’s shoulder. “Es bueno verte de nuevo.”

“Yo también, mijo." She glared up at Kolivan, trying to glare a hole straight between his eyes despite being a little over half his height. “Quien es este hombre?” She asked. Her eyes didn’t drift for a second.

Behind her, Nadia and Sylvio whispered to each other. They were holding hands and conspicuously side-eying the Galra, making no secret of their fear. Sylvio took his little sister by the arm and forcefully pulled her away from the door and around the corner quickly.

Lance felt his smile falter for the slightest second as his worst fears were becoming a reality. The hand on his shoulder squeezed comfortingly, and the human reached his hand up to touch their hands together and squeeze back. Lance took a deep breath to steady his rising nerves. “Mi novio.”

The effect on her face was instant. Her eyebrows raised happily, and her lips tilted upward in a smile. “Well, why didn’t you say so, mijo?” She held her hand out to the two of them and ushered them both inside; she pulled her son aside and pulled him into a tight embrace. “You’re the first to come home. It might be best to introduce your novio to your siblings one at a time." She whispered into his ear before releasing him again.

His mother turned to Kolivan, not daunted in the slightest by him towering over her. She was a short woman even by Earth standards, and he was a tall man even by Galra standards. They weren’t exactly close in height. “My name is Rosa, and you will call me that or mamá." She said in heavily accented English. “I will not answer to ‘Mrs. McClain’ or ‘Lance’s mom.’ As long as you are my son’s, you are family and will be treated as such; I will make sure of it." She held her hand out at her chest level.

Kolivan reached his own hand out to shake in the middle. His purple clawed hand dwarfed Rosa’s easily. Afraid to break the bones in her fingers, his grip was nothing more than a gentle pressure.

“Me estrechó la mano como un perro." She looked to Lance with a mischevious light in her eyes.

He snorted. “Sólo está siendo cortés." Kolivan cocked an eyebrow at Lance. “She said that you have great manners.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe that’s what you two said." Kolivan smiled down at Lance. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home Mrs- Rosa." He corrected himself at the last moment.

Lance’s mother tapped her chin with a finger. “Mrs. Rosa. I think that’s a new one. You took the only acceptable name and mixed it with one of the unacceptable names. You must like walking the line.”

The Galra shook his head, suddenly defensive. “It was never my intention to offend you if I have… Rosa. I forgot myself for a moment-”

“Kolivan, babe,” Lance said as he held back laughter. “She’s messing with you. You’re fine." He grabbed his boyfriend’s arm and pulled him into the house. “We’re going to meet the rest of my family now. You saw my little niece and nephew earlier. They’re really sweet, and they’ll use you as their personal jungle gym if you give them the chance.”

“What’s… A jungle gym?” Kolivan whispered in Lance’s ear when he ducked down so that his head didn’t bang into the doorframe as they moved from room to room.

Lance furrowed his brow and pursed his lips slightly. “It’s like a toy, thing that Earth children climb on for fun.”

“Why wouldn’t they just climb on trees or rocks? Why do you need a specific toy specifically for climbing?”

“A lot of Earth parents don’t want their kids getting hurt, so a Jungle Gym is a safer way to climb on things and make sure that they don’t fall and break themselves,” Lance said as he waved his niece and nephew over.

Kolivan nodded his head in understanding. “Earthlings are cowards." He looked down at Lance, and he blushed as he realized what he had just said. “Except for you, of course. Your mother also has the heart and conviction of a true Galra warrior.”

The younger McClains rushed to meet their Uncle as he bent down to intercept them. Their impacts were making him grunt, but he was smiling as he fell to the ground with them on top of him. “It’s been forever, Tío Lance! Tío Lance!" They clung to his sides like barnacles.

“ _Forever?_ I’m not sure about forever." Lance tickled the two of them until they were curling in on themselves in laughter. “How long has it really been?”

“Like…” Nadia counted on her fingers. “A lot of days. This many days!" She held up all ten of her fingers and stuck her feet out too.

Lance smiled. “Ten days?” He prompted.

“No! My feet, Tío Lance! You need to count my feet too!" She wiggled them for emphasis.

“I count two feet. Twelve days?”

“No! My toes!" Nadia giggled and kicked her feet closer to Lance’s face as if she were worried that he couldn’t see them.

Lance narrowly avoided being kicked in the face, intent on avoiding future close-calls he grabbed her ankles and held them in place. “But you have these pesky shoes!" He shook them. “How will I know how many toes you’re holding up?”

“You have to pretend." She said as if it should be obvious. “You have to pretend about how many toes are up.”

“Alright. I’m pretending that there are…” He trailed off and looked up as if to pluck a number from the air. “256 toes in this shoe." He shook the right one. “And 197 in this one." He shook the left one. “That means you have a total of 453 toes up.”

She was cackling madly now. Her childish grin ate up her entire face, and her unabashed innocence was spreading. “You forgot about my hands." She waved them again.

“Right, two hands. 455.”

“No! My fingers _on_ my hands.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? 465.”

Sylvio interrupted them then. His arms had been crossed almost the entire time as he watched his sister and uncle play around on the floor. “That’s not right, Tío Lance. It would be 463. 453 plus 10 is 463, not 465.”

Lance’s face lit up even more as he smiled at his nephew. “It looks like someone’s learning some math! And, you’re advanced enough to start correcting me! I’m so proud of you.”

His nephew’s face lit up at the praise, and he moved back to the floor to join his sister on top of Lance.

“I want you guys to meet someone,” Lance said. He was smiling uncontrollably as he gestured to Kolivan who had so far been standing off to the side, admiring his boyfriend’s demeanor with children. Kolivan, who had been harboring a small smile up until then, resumed his normally stoic facade and leaned down on one knee. His large, hulk-like form dwarfed the children and made them seem smaller than they actually were.

“Es un tipo malo?” Nadia whispered into Lance’s ear. She was trying to be as quiet as possible in fear of the Galra’s wrath.

Lance shook his head vehemently. “No, no! Es un tipo bueno!" He turned to Kolivan and ushered him to sit down fully. “Sit down, babe. When you stand over them, they’re more likely to be scared of you." Kolivan obliged and sat down in the empty space. Lance leaned over and whispered mockingly to the two of them. “Él es mi novio.”

The effect was instant on Nadia. Her face lit up, and she threw her arms around Lance’s neck. “You have a _novio_ ; you have a _novio_." She sang in a mocking voice.

Sylvio stood off to the side. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked between Lance and Kolivan. “Tío Lance?” He asked meekly. “Do _boys_ have cooties?”

\---

Meeting most of Lance’s family went much the same way. There was the initial fear that someone who’s race had enslaved Earth was inside their house and cuddling up to their little brother. Then there was anger and a fierce protectiveness that left no doubt in Kolivan’s mind where Lance had gotten his heart; he clearly wasn’t adopted.

The biggest problem arose after Lance had briefly left the room, and Luis arrived home with Lisa. As soon as he walked into the house and his eyes settled on the Galra with his children sprawled out around his feet smiling and laughing he exploded. “Nadia! Sylvio!" He shouted. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. “What are you doing?”

Nadia smiled gladly and held up a messy lock of Kolivan’s hair. “I’m braiding Tío Koli’s hair. Isn’t it pretty?” The hair in question poorly resembled a braid, but she was happy and smiling. That very smile was what made her father falter for a moment before he resumed his advance.

“You are not doing anything." He spat. “You and your brother are going to get away from this-this _monster_." Kolivan might have towered above everyone in the room, but at this moment, he was smaller than Nadia. His ears were flattened against his head, and his shoulders slumped slightly forward.

Gently, he took the half-finished braid from her small hands and tied it off. “You should listen to your father, small one." He whispered with a tight, forced smile. “I will take my leave if that is what you wish.”

There was a fire in Luis’ eyes he glared the alien down. “I don’t want to see any of your kind by any of my family _especially_ my children.”

“Luis Ventura Barrios McClain!" Rosa’s voice roared from the kitchen. “Tratarás a ese hombre con el respeto que se merece!" Her voice demanded complete silence in the room. The children didn’t even breathe. They were just staring at their father, wanting to know exactly how he would respond.

He took a deep calming breath, consuming all the oxygen in the room for two simple words. “Ya se.”

“Qué pasa?” Lance asked as he poked his head through the open doorway. “Qué está pasando aquí? Luis?” He approached his older brother cautiously. “Is something wrong?”

“Is. Something. Wrong." Luis hissed through his clenched teeth. “You’re asking if something is wrong as there is a pinche monsturo in our _home_ with my _kids_. Didn’t you go into space to eradicate things like him?”

Instantly, Lance’s eyes darkened. “ _’Things’_?” His voice was deadly calm; Kolivan had never heard it so devoid of emotion, so devoid of _Lance_. “Kolivan is not a _thing_. He is the leader of the Blade of Marmora, a Galra organization dead-set on bringing down the rule of the Empire. He has saved the lives of countless innocents, and he has saved the lives of everyone on Voltron more times than I can count.

“And you dare to come in and call him a _thing_ as soon as you lay eyes on him. You are judging him before you even get to talk to him, and I’m sorry but that sounds an awful lot like what we’ve been on the receiving end of for hundreds of years, so you can’t even pretend that you don’t know what it’s like.”

“I am with Lance." Rosa’s voice called from behind Luis’ body, causing the much larger man to tense in surprise. “Lance brought Kolivan here as a guest. He will be treated like family by everyone here, including yourself, and if you can’t handle that, then all of us have a problem." Luis wasn’t backing down in the slightest. He stared daggers through Kolivan’s eyes, and Rosa had to physically pull him into the other room.

The rest of the room seemed to breathe easily for a few moments before Rosa’s voice permeated throughout the room, angry Spanish reverberating off the walls. Lance walked over to his boyfriend and gave him a tight smile. “Sorry about him. How about we go outside, alright?”

Kolivan nodded his head. His ears had perked back up, and he rose to his feet. Nadia came up to Lance and raised her arms above her head in the universal sign for ‘pick me up!’ Lance obliged with a faux grunt that only made her laugh.

“Por qué a papá no le gusta Tío Kolivan?” She whispered in his ear, but it was still loud enough for Kolivan to hear.

“Your papá is just afraid,” Lance said back. “Don’t worry though. He’s more afraid of your abuela than he is of Kolivan." They walked through the back door and into the humid air of Cuba.

Nadia cocked her head. “Tío Lance? Why is papá afraid of Tío Koli?”

Ahead of them, Kolivan froze in place giving away any hope of pretending that he wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

“Kolivan looks like someone who did something bad," Lance spoke quietly. “He didn’t, but when your papá looked at him, that was all he could see." Kolivan looked back to the two humans, both watching him curiously. Nadia was staring at him with some minor fascination and Lance… Lance was looking at him with something that he couldn’t quite place. He had seen the look before, but he could never come up with what it might have been called.

His blue eyes were softly watching him; it was as if he was the only thing that Lance could see in the entire universe. His skin reflected the light of the setting sun in a perfect amber color, which only made his eyes stand out all the more. He wore a small smile on his face, and his lips were slightly parted. He looked amazing. He looked ethereal. He looked…

_Perfect_.

The little girl in his arms squirmed away from her Uncle. “I’m going to go play now, Tío Lance, Tío Koli!" The moment was broken, and Kolivan could breathe again. Lance set her down gently in the grass and watched as she ran away to play some sort of make-believe game.

Lance walked over to Kolivan and wrapped his arms around the Galra. He shoved his face into the large chest in front of him, and he breathed deeply. “I’m sorry my family is shitty.”

Kolivan placed a massive hand on Lance’s head. His claws played with the brown hair, and he could physically feel Lance’s muscles relaxing into him. “It is alright. I expect it won’t be the last time that I am shunned here on Earth. The Galra… we have hurt more than many of us would like to admit.”

“Hey." Lance raised his head. “Don’t say that.”

Kolivan cocked an eyebrow upwards. “Do not say what? We have hurt more than we would like to admit. We have hurt more than we want to accept that we have hurt.”

“No." Lance unwrapped an arm from around his boyfriend’s waist and jabbed a finger into his chest. “ _You_ have not hurt anyone. _You_ are not the cold-blooded Galra that everyone thinks you are. _You_ are an amazing and awesome person, and I am so glad that you are here, with me.”

Kolivan smiled softly down at him. He brought his hand down to cup Lance’s chin. “I am glad I’m here with you too, Starlight." Slowly, he brought their lips together in a slow, chaste kiss. Their lips rested against each other’s for a few heartbeats, and then they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“I love you," Kolivan whispered into their shared air.

“Yo también, mi cielo, mi vida, y mi amor." 

“You know, those translators don’t work for different Earthen languages." Kolivan smiled. “You’re going to have to start manually translating if you want me to keep up with the conversation.”

Lance smiled back and kissed Kolivan’s cheek. “I love you too, my sky." He kissed the other cheek. “My life." He leaned forward and pressed their lips together once more. “And my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three down! How are you liking this so far? Intrigued? Next up: Adance (The final installation in this adventure (and the longest one :))
> 
> Translations:  
> Es bueno verte de nuevo: It’s good to see you again  
> Yo también: Me too basically  
> Quien es este hombre?: Who is this man?  
> Mi novio: My boyfriend  
> Me estrechó la mano como un perro: He shook my hand like a dog  
> Sólo está siendo cortés: He’s just being polite.  
> Es un tipo malo?: Is he a bad guy?  
> Es un tipo bueno: He is a good guy  
> Él es mi novio: He is my boyfriend  
> Tratarás a ese hombre con el respeto que se merece: You will treat this man with the respect he deserves:  
> Ya se: I know (direct translation) I am (what I hope was implied)  
> Qué está pasando aquí?: What’s going on here?  
> Por qué a papá no le gusta Tío Kolivan: Why doesn’t dad like Uncle Kolivan?


	4. Snuggling and Sweaters and Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!! IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY!!!!!!!!
> 
> This is the last installment. And I want you to know that I had the most fun writing for this ship. It was so fun, and this is a very fluffy chapter.
> 
> **IF YOU DON'T WANT ANGST** , then skip the last part, it starts with "Adam hummed as he cleaned the counter..." and it comes right after a break. **IF YOU SKIP THIS PART, YOU WILL HAVE A 100% FLUFFY CHAPTER IF YOU SO WISH**

The house was quiet and cozy and quite cozy. That was what Lance had said the first time he had come over to Adam’s place. Apparently, when you were a teacher at one of the top flight schools in America, you got paid the big bucks.

Lance never got tired of visiting Adam in his home, and Adam never got tired of having Lance over. This time was no exception.

It was the last day before Lance was flying home to see his family for Christmas, and Adam had a plan.

The sofa had been properly fluffed to ‘maximum comfort’ as Lance would say, and the fire was crackling heartily in its place. He had just finished laying out all of the ingredients to make sugar cookies when the doorbell rang.

Adam tried and failed to contain how absolutely giddy he felt as he practically skipped towards the door. He had to restrain himself from literally flinging the door wide open to greet Lance.

Lance stood sheepishly on Adam’s doorstep; he was wrapped in a blue jacket that looked far too cold for the weather they were having. He had a brown scarf that Adam had personally knit for him wrapped around his neck so that it covered his nose and mouth as well. The edges were slightly tattered where he had pulled and tugged at the yarn, and the stitches were starting to come undone. Adam didn’t mind though; it just proved to him that Lance appreciated his gift.

He smiled and lowered the scarf ever so slightly so that the tip of Lance’s nose was exposed to the chilled air. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. _To ward off frostbite_ , he rationalized in his head, knowing full well his heart had different reasons. Lance’s cheeks darkened further, but Adam couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or embarrassment.

“I uh- brought some sparkling cider,” he said and raised a small wicker basket with two green bottles in it that Adam had missed in his cursory check. “I couldn’t remember if you liked it or not, but I figured if you didn’t like it I could always take it back home..." He brought his other hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly.

Adam smiled wider and took the basket gingerly from the other’s (probably) cold fingers. Their hands touched for the briefest moment (yeah, his hands were like ice), and Adam ushered Lance inside to warm him up. “Come on in." He closed the door behind him, shutting out the cold, biting air. “I set some things up in the kitchen for us.”

He opened his refrigerator and placed the cider in there for later, even though it was so cold outside that they didn’t need it to stay cold. Lance rolled his suitcase beside the door as he hung his jacket on the coat rack and revealed a bright blue sweater underneath. He turned and showed off the front which featured two snowmen asking each other, ‘Do you smell carrots?’

Lance posed comically with it. “So? How do I look?” He tried flexing his arms in different ways, posing as different famous statues, not quite thinking through the ‘Thinker’ pose and accidentally covering up his front.

“I didn’t realize this was an ugly sweater contest,” Adam said as he walked closer to Lance and rested both his hands on his hips. “I would definitely have won." He rubbed their noses together teasingly, and Lance rubbed back. His face lit up with an insanely happy smile from just an Eskimo kiss.

“What makes you say that?” Lance asked. “I think that you’re awfully pretty. There’s no way you would win an ugly sweater contest. Your residual beauty would instantly disqualify you because you have so much of it that they would hate to call any part of you ugly.”

“I mean, I _could_ go looking for my minion sweater and settle this debate once and for all." He laughed at the sudden look of disgust on Lance’s face. “But otherwise, I think I’ll just stick with this old thing." He gestured down to what he was already wearing. The gray material fit snugly around him, and the very ends of the sleeves had holes so that he could stick his thumbs through and still keep his hands warm.

Lance snorted and leaned into Adam’s chest. “I fully agree; please, no minions." His head tucked under the other’s chin. “What do you have planned for us tonight?”

Adam rocked the two of them back and forth slightly and hummed directly into his ear. “I was thinking that maybe we could start off by making cookies… Then decorating them… No eating them though." He said, suddenly serious. “We’re absolutely not going to eat these cookies that we put all this effort into.”

“Ha ha,” Lance said dryly and rolled his eyes. He pulled slightly away from Adam’s warmth to look him straight in the eyes. “I feel like you’ve just issued me a challenge." Adam shrugged, and Lance curled back into his chest. “That’s fine I guess, we just need to make something to warm us up." He shivered against his chest as if he was trying to prove a point.

A bar of chocolate sat on the counter beside the stove, and Adam smiled to himself. “I have the perfect idea.”

\---

After almost an hour, creatively cut sugar cookies were baking in the oven, and the two were curled up together on the couch with their heads laid against each other’s shoulders and steaming hot chocolate in mugs warming their hands. The crackling fire filled the room with heat and sound; the light reflected off of both their eyes as they stared into the flames.

In the kitchen, the oven beeped to let them know the cookies were done. Lance yawned and curled closer to Adam. The marshmallows in his chocolate had melted across the surface, and whenever he took a sip, the sugary foam stuck to his top lip. It made a mustache that Adam had first chuckled at, but he now leaned over to kiss off.

“You know one of us needs to get them out of the oven,” Adam whispered. His eyes were still transfixed on the fire, and he made no move to get up.

Lance blew across the surface of his cocoa in an attempt to cool it off. “Your house, your responsibility." He whispered drowsily, his eyes starting to drift closed.

Adam smiled and reached to take Lance’s mug from his hands which were starting to lose their ability to hold cups of hot liquid that Adam did not want to clean up later. He set the mug on a coaster on the table in front of them and wrapped Lance up in the rest of the blanket as he went to check on the cookies.

They were cooked almost perfectly, and Adam rushed to get them off of the still hot baking sheet before they burned or overcooked. He put them on a paper towel so that they could cool quickly, and he brought out the colored frostings from the fridge so that they could decorate them later. He went to the other room to rouse Lance and stopped in the doorway.

On the couch, Lance had fallen asleep. His face was expressionless, and it practically glowed against the firelight. Adam felt the edges of his lips curl upwards in a smile as the other curled the blankets more tightly around himself to try and extract the most warmth and pull it close to himself.

Adam knelt right in front of Lance and gently shook his shoulder. Blue eyes peeked out between caramel lids. “Hey,” the younger slurred through sleep, smiling to himself before closing his eyes and yawning. “‘Re the cooks good?”

“Did you just say ‘cooks’ instead of cookies?” Adam asked and poked the tip of Lance’s nose playfully.

“‘M tired, Adam. Don’ be mean." Lance looked blearily at the other between his long eyelashes.

The older brushed Lance’s bangs to the side so that he could press his lips to the top of his forehead. “Do you just want to sleep here? You can sleep in the bed, and I’ll take you to the airport tomorrow.”

Lance shook his head and yawned. He rubbed his eyes and stretched before mumbling. “No, I wanna eat some cooks." The corners of his lips curved up to a smile like he knew exactly what he was saying was going to bother Adam. His eyes, although still sleepy, glinted mischievously.

“There’s only one cook in this house,” Adam said as he pulled Lance into a bridal carry. He whispered in Lance’s ear. “And he’s not for eating." The younger yelped and adhered to him. All traces of sleep were gone from the long limbs that clung precariously to the blanket and the man carrying him.

He gently set Lance on the counter still wrapped in the blanket, although he hissed when the back of his knees made contact with the freezing cold counter and quickly shifted the blanket under him.

“I’ve got white, black, blue, red, and yellow frosting colors. From those we can make all the other colors, right?” Adam said as he organized the pots of frostings around the otherwise empty counter.

Lance nodded. “Yeah, but I have a question, babe." Adam hummed. “Why didn’t we just start with all white frosting and add food coloring? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Adam stopped what he was doing and placed his forehead against the counter with his eyes closed.

“I’m an idiot." He muttered and lifted his head slightly only to let it fall back with a small thud. “I made all the primary colors with frosting thinking I was being clever and I would be able to impress you with my color knowledge.”

“You’re impressing me with your lack of color knowledge,” Lance teased with a smile plastered across his face. “It’s okay though; I forgive you. We can make even weirder colors this way. Like, we could make fifty different shades of grey.”

Adam raised his head to half-glare at the other. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and there was a large pale circle on his forehead where the blood had been forced away. Lance tugged Adam to him setting him in between his legs, but Lance was still taller from his vantage point on the counter.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against the cold spot on his forehead. “I think it’s really sweet, babe." He lowered his head so that they were touching foreheads together and breathing each other’s air. “Are they cooled enough?” Adam nodded against him. “Great! Let’s get to decorating!”

Lance hopped down off the counter; the motion caused the boy’s chests to be pressed startlingly close, and Adam was forced to take a step back.

“These are going to be the best-decorated cooks that you ever did see!" Lance proclaimed as he pressed a chaste kiss to Adam’s cheek.

Adam felt his cheeks darken considerably, and he cast his eyes down to the floor. “Whatever you say, Lance. I swear I’m going to beat you, though.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

Thirty minutes later, the counter was nowhere near as clean as it had been when they first started. Various amounts of frosting decorated the white tile making it look more like a Jackson Pollock painting than a counter. Adam worried about the food coloring staining the white, but after seeing the smile reaching from ear to ear on Lance’s face, he decided that this was worth the sacrifice.

Lance was much slower at decorating than Adam was, which surprised him. His boyfriend was putting so much effort into the microscopic decorations that in the time he took to decorate one cookie, Adam had finished three and was in the middle of a fourth. Neither of them seemed to mind though, as Adam’s pile started growing larger and larger as Lance was practically sweating over one.

Whenever the older boy tried to take a peek at what was making his tongue peek out ever so slightly between his lips, Lance turned his body away, making sure that the decorations remained hidden.

“C’mon, Lance." He whined jokingly. “You have to show me eventually.”

Lance looked up for the first time in at least two minutes. His brow still furrowed in concentration. “And eventually is not now." He went right back to work. “It’s supposed to be a surprise. This is going to be the best cook ever. You’re going to want to frame this cook.”

A smile worked its way onto Adam’s face. “I’ll frame anything that you want me to." He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Lance to hear. The other didn’t move, but Adam knew that he had heard from the blush making its way up the back of Lance’s neck.

Adam was in the middle of slathering the top half of a cookie with blue frosting to match Lance’s sweater when he finally proclaimed that his cookie was finished. It still didn’t stop him from hiding the design behind the miniature pile that he had already completed.

“This is the last one I’m going to do," Adam said as he grabbed the white frosting to make snowmen. This time, Lance was the one trying to peek at Adam’s design. “Ah, ah, ah!" He smiled. “This is a surprise, Lance. It’s going to be the best one of the night, just you wait and see.”

He put a few black dots on the snowmen’s front and called it good. On three, they both revealed their secret decorations and promptly burst out laughing. Lance’s cookie wore a grey sweater with raised crocheted designs that matched Adam’s wardrobe almost exactly, and Adam’s cookie was dressed in a blue sweater with two snowmen.

“Did we seriously do each other?” Lance asked through his laughter.

“Of course we did." Adam smiled. “Sorry I couldn’t get the words of your sweater, but a cookie is a bit of a small working space, and there’s a lot of words.

Lance laughed harder. “There are only four words! ‘Do you smell carrots?’ That’s not a lot of words.”

Adam smiled back at the joy Lance was exhibiting. “Okay, it’s four words and a question mark. That question mark makes all the difference.”

“Oh really?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Hold on, let me see if I can write the words on." He held his hand out for the cookie in Adam’s hand. He handed it over. “Alright, you’re about to see the cook-decorating master at his finest.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I’d like to see you try topping this beauty right here." He plucked the objectively worst decorated cookie from his pile and put it on display for the other to appreciate. “This right here." He pointed at the cookie to make sure that Lance knew exactly what he was talking about. “This is my pride and joy. You can’t top art at it’s finest.”

Lance giggled, and Adam felt his heart soar. “I think I can beat a green Christmas tree." He said as he got to work trying to fit the tiny letters onto his frosting sweater. “Take a look at some of mine, though. They’re not going to compare to that masterpiece, but I’m proud of them.”

Adam glanced over at Lance’s meager pile and finally understood why it took him so long to decorate. They were amazing — the Christmas tree that he had decorated even had indentions to mimic the needles of a real tree.

“Ah! No!" Lance said, biting his bottom lip. “No." He said again, although this time it was quieter and sounded more defeated. He looked at Adam sadly. “I killed myself." He held the cookie in his hand which had been broken in two, coincidentally breaking the round head from the rest of the body. The words ‘Do you sm’ had been written, surprisingly small in a text bubble above one snowman.

The two of them stared at the crumbling cookie before Adam snorted and doubled over in laughter.

“Don’t laugh,” Lance said, trying to hold back his own laughter but being much more successful. “This is a serious problem. Adam, I’ve cut off my own head, and here you are laughing. Adam. Adam look at me.”

Adam glanced up at Lance and redoubled his laughter. He had set the cookie on the counter and pulled his sweater up over his head so that all Adam could see was the top of his hair.

“I’m dead.”

“Oh my god." Adam wheezed. “Oh my god, wait." He pulled the bottom of Lance’s sweater down so that his head popped out of the top of it. “I need to you break my arms off." He said, already pulling them through his sleeves so that they were wrapped around his torso under the sweater.

“Adam, I can’t. I’m totally 100% dead. I have no head.”

Adam rolled his eyes and threaded his arms through the sleeves. “Fine." He grabbed the cookie that Lance had made in his likeness. He felt bad about breaking it; it was incredibly detailed - at least the sweater was, the face was just two dots and a smile with eyebrows that made him look somewhat angry. After a moment’s consideration, he took out his phone and snapped a quick picture.

He held the cookie up for Lance to watch him break the legs from the cookie, and he immediately let his own legs give out so he could fall dramatically to the floor. 

Lance laid down next to him on the floor, wrapping them both in the blanket. His head pressed against Adam’s chest. “We can die together. It’ll be great.”

Adam raised his hand to play with Lance’s soft hair. “We can’t die here.”

“Too late." Lance interrupted. “You have to carry me back to bed.”

“I can’t carry you. My legs are broken.”

“Well, I’m missing my head.”

“We can’t sleep on the floor.”

Lance yawned and nuzzled further into Adam’s embrace. “Watch me.”

Adam hummed and rested his head against the top of Lance’s. “It’s going to be cold.”

“Mmhmm." Lance hummed; he wrapped the blanket further around himself.

“And uncomfortable.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And you might miss your flight because my alarm clock is in my room, and I’m your ride to the airport.”

Lance was quiet for a minute before he softly spoke. “Well, if we’re going to get the bed… I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to moving.”

“Well, then you need to get off of me first." Adam poked Lance’s cheek playfully.

“My motivation just dropped.”

Adam smiled. “I’ll carry you to bed.”

Lance moved faster than Adam had ever seen him move. In a split-second, he was off of the other and on his feet. “You’ve got yourself a deal, babe.”

He pushed himself off of the floor. “Okay, but I need to put the cookies away first." He grabbed a zip top bag from a drawer and began packaging them up. When he got to the two broken cookies, he looked to Lance. “Do I eat you or me?”

Lance smiled softly. “You eat me of course; I get to eat you." Adam nodded and took a bite of the cookie he had made to look like the other. Lance wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear. “Maybe this cook _was_ for eating." He nipped lightly at the lobe of Adam’s ear, making him shiver. “I bet you taste even sweeter than that cookie with no legs.”

Adam turned his head and captured Lance’s lips with his own. Their tongues danced together, and the blanket wrapped around Lance’s shoulders silently fell to the floor. He didn’t even feel cold. Warm hands cradled the younger’s face as they stood in each other’s embrace.

Lance hummed in appreciation, and he pulled back slightly, his entire body willing him to go back into the warmth of the man he loved. He could taste the remnants of the sugar cookie that Adam had eaten just before the kiss and if that wasn’t one of the best things to happen to him, he didn’t know what was. “I believe I was promised a bed." He whispered breathily, his eyes refusing to break the contact between the two.

“I believe I promised to carry you,” Adam whispered back, equally as breathless. He knelt to the ground and picked up the blanket that had fallen, and he placed it right back on Lance’s shoulders before he bent down again to pick the other up. The blue-eyed boy’s arms curled comfortably around Adam’s neck, and his head was tucked against his chest. The blanket dragged on the floor, and he silently hoped that Adam didn’t trip over it and send them both flying.

Luckily, they made it to the bedroom without falling and dying. Adam laid Lance gingerly out on the bed and wrapped him in even more blankets, knowing that the other got cold when he slept despite being a literal furnace to sleep next to.

“Your flight is at eight right?” Adam asked as he laid down next to him and stared into blue eyes that stared right back. Lance nodded, his eyes squeezing shut as he yawned.

“8:15, flight 684. Be there at least two hours ahead of your flight time for international." He said. It sounded like he was reciting them mechanically.

Adam nodded and set his alarm clock to 5:30 then thought about how long it usually takes Lance to get out of bed and ready and changed it to 5:00. “I’ll wake you up and see you off then.”

Lance let his face relax as he felt sleep overtake his consciousness. “Thank you, babe.”

Even though Adam knew the other was already asleep, he heard himself whisper back. “You’re welcome, beautiful." He brushed Lance’s bangs away from his face and pressed a kiss to the other’s forehead before letting himself follow suit.

\---

The next morning, the blaring alarm woke Adam immediately. Lance’s arms and legs were tangled between his own. His body was practically radiating heat, leaving Adam uncomfortably sweaty. With Lance’s arms wrapped around him like a leech, he couldn’t reach the alarm to turn it off, and Lance was giving no sign of waking any time soon.

“Lance." He shook the other’s shoulder, but Lance didn’t move in the slightest. He was breathing deeply as he curled more tightly around Adam. “Lance." He tried again, only to get a similar response. “Lance, get up.”

Finally, Lance opened his eyes blearily. “Don’ wanna.”

“I’m sweaty, and you’re clinging to me. That means that you have probably spent all night cuddling something that is very sweaty. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think-” Lance was up before Adam could finish.

“Oh my god, I do feel really sweaty." Lance shivered after the loss of warmth from the pile of blankets that he had been under. “This is awful." He stepped into the bathroom to start the water heating up. “Is it alright if I shower first?”

Adam nodded, but he realized that Lance couldn’t see him. “Yeah, go ahead. You’ve got a long flight ahead of you.”

“Awesome." His voice called back. “Can you turn that alarm off?”

Adam chuckled as he reached over to do so.

\---

They barely made it to the airport with an hour and a half advance. At least there was no one there at 6:45 in the morning, so all the lines were short.

Every line was short, including the TSA checkpoint.

“This is as far as I can go, beautiful,” Adam said as he handed Lance’s suitcase over and pulled the younger man into a hug. “You have a safe flight and a safe ride back to your house from the airport... And a safe entire trip back now that I think about it.”

Lance chuckled and squeezed Adam’s chest tighter. “You know I will, babe. I really gotta get through this line though, and I want to make sure I have enough time to relax before my flight.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to relax on the flight,” Adam reassured, but he pulled back anyway.

Both of them held unshed tears in their eyes. “I’ll text you when I land in Cuba, unless of course my phone dies, which it might because I can’t remember where I packed my charger.”

Adam nodded and smiled. He pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s soft lips. “I’ll see you in a month and a half.”

“Five weeks, three days." Lance clarified and kissed Adam once more. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Adam stayed to watch Lance make his way through security and right before he was going to turn the corner into the terminals, he shouted out. “I LOVE YOU!!!” at the top of his lungs.

People glared at him for being so loud so early in the morning, but it was worth it to see Lance jump, turn around, and yell back. “I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”

\---

Adam hummed as he cleaned the counter. The food coloring in the frosting had indeed stained the white tile. Lance’s decapitated cookie was still on the counter; he had only taken a bite out of it last night; he smiled fondly at the memory. He was silently cursing Lance and his beautiful smile as he reached for the bleach when something caught his eye. He had left the TV on after watching the morning news, but he had muted it afterward.

On the screen, clear as day, was a picture of a crashed plane. Adam felt his heart lodged in his throat. He didn’t have subtitles on, but the banner that was scrolling across the bottom of the screen read two fleeting words: “NO SURVIVORS.”

He rushed to find the TV remote, turning the volume up as soon as he did. A woman’s voice spoke over the video of firetrucks spraying water on the flaming wreckage. “Flight 684 crashlanded due to pilot error this morning at 9:03, a little under an hour after take off. The flight was on its way to the Santa Maria Airport located just west of Varadero, Cuba with 158 passengers on board." Adam wracked his brain, trying to remember the flight that Lance was supposed to be on. He was going to the Santa Maria Airport.

He desperately opened his phone, having to tap away from the picture of the cookie Lance had made for him as he searched for the text conversation that they had had.

**Me:** Hey, babbe  
 **Me:** Babe*  
 **Me:** What’s your flight number so I can track your plane?  
 **Lance <3:** Why do you need to track my plane? Don’t you trust me, lol?  
 **Lance <3:** 684.

Adam saw the tears on his phone screen before he realized he was crying.

“... it is unlikely that any of the 158 passengers survived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um… That Happened… Hey, hey, hey. Don’t you think it’s kinda ironic that Lance died in a plane crash? I mean, he died doing what he loved: flying. Just thought that I should point that out. :)
> 
> If you didn't read the sad part, then I hope you have a very Merry Christmas with your fluff  
> If you did read the sad part, then I am sorry and still hope you have a very Merry Christmas, but this time with your angst.
> 
> Anyway, That was the last of your present, Blue!!! Aren't you so happy?! (Probably happy that it's over, but still the same)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so oddly enough, this was the one that gave me the most problems, so if this wasn't your cup of tea, the next ones should be better :)))))))))
> 
> Tomorrow is: Keith's Father/Lance


End file.
